Weakness
by Acidgreenflames
Summary: Vortex is recuperating after a brutal assault, being forced to rely on the kindness of others. It's not always all bad.


I have no excuse for this other then I wanted to write a cuddle fic. I was having a hard time at my new job, and this made me happy. Basically it's a scene from a fic/plot bunny that I will likely never write. But here ya go. Total Sunstreaker/Vortex fluff that I wrote selfishly for me. Enjoy!

Thank you to DarknessRising10 for betaing my fic. 3333

**Disclaimer: **I own NOTHING!

Vortex squirmed uncomfortably under the frontliner's piercing gaze, claws digging into the soft pad of his berth as his rotor hub dug uncomfortably into the wall at his back. The soft grey of his armour shone dully in the dim light whilst pulling tightly to his frame in anticipation of an attack.

Throat cables working, the Decepticon managed to swallow, optics still dim after Ratchet's repairs, pink in how dull they were, his joints aching from lack of use.

Sunstreaker shifted uncomfortably at the door, cube of energon in one servo, a small stack of data chips in the other. The frontliner looked just as uncomfortable as he felt, blue optics darting around the room, falling on anything but the copter.

His actions made Vortex feel small, insignificant in comparison; he wasn't worthy of the Autobot's attention, if his wandering gaze was anything to go by. He shouldn't have been surprised though, he had let a minibot get the better of him. Had let himself be drugged and abused, used at the small Autobot's whims.

Unvisored optics dipped back down to his curled legs, focusing on his pedes. He was unworthy before Sunstreaker's perfection, and the protection he offered.

Sunstreaker shifted nervously, blunt digits tapping carefully at the cube, worried and unsure. He wanted to help, do something, anything, to help soothe the Decepticon, but he just didn't know how to. It was hard enough for him to be gentle at the best of times, never mind with an unstable mech who had been drugged and mistreated for so many vorns.

Heaving a gentle sigh, Sunstreaker ventured a little deeper into the dark room, the small peace offering held out before him. Swallowing his pride, Sunstreaker pushed back his shoulders and tipped his chin up a little higher, striving for confidence. "So. I know that Ratchet said you're supposed to take it easy for a while." The frontliner shifted again. "But maybe we could watch a movie."

Blue optics dipped back to the data chips in his servos as Sunstreaker suddenly felt very stupid. "They're from Earth, but they're not too bad." Sunstreaker shifted again, trying to be still. "Hook also said that some social interaction would be good for you. You've been," he paused. "Alone for a very long time."

"You mean," Vortex snapped, voice rasping and crackling from its lack of use. "When I was trapped in a bloody dungeon and forgotten about? Left to rot and hurt while everyone else got to live the high life!"

Something crossed the Autobot's face, something fleeting that tore through his facial features but was gone before the interrogator could decipher it. "Vortex," the other's voice came out weaker than he wanted it to, forcing him to clear his throat. "I'm sorry. You're right, someone should've checked in on you more thoroughly. You should've been protected and I'm sorry you weren't."

The Decepticon looked away, face set in a bitter frown. "Whatever."

Heaving a tired sigh, Sunstreaker, not one known for his patience, tried again. "Look, do you want to watch this stupid movie with me or not?"

Vortex flinched at the Autobot's raised words, making Sunstreaker feel all the more worse. Shoulders drooped when he thought the Decepticon would say no, sure that Vortex would continue to barricade himself in his room, away from the others.

Sunstreaker was taken by surprise when Vortex snarled softly, having been locked away alone for so long and gruffly agreed.

It was on shaky, newly rebuilt legs that the Deception forced himself to his pedes, walking out of the room, the Autobot close behind him and ready to catch him should he fall. Vortex managed to stay upright, having to use the wall only twice before collapsing on to the couch in the common area.

Fans whirled embarrassingly, pants leaving his vents in ragged heaves as Vortex tried to calm his damaged frame down.

Much to Sunstreaker's credit, he said nothing about the other's weakened state, instead he calmly set the energon on the table next to Vortex, catching a glance at the Decepticon's face. The Autobot felt something stir in his chest, something warm that worried for Vortex. His crimson optics were still so dull, nearly a dusty rose from his physical distress, exhaustion and lack of energon.

It pained the frontliner to see the handsome face so ragged, optics so dim and armour so much duller than it should be.

Sunstreaker forced himself to look away, his spark clenching in his chest as he watched Vortex's shaking servos wrap around the energon cube, lifting it to his scarred lips. Blue optics flickered up, to the left red one for only a moment, where a long thin scar ran down the side of Vortex's face, the color nanites having never recovered from the damage inflicted. The damage almost claimed the copter's optic, nearly leaving him partially blind, damage inflicted by Cliffjumper.

The frontliner forced the snarl down bitterly, angry, furious that the damage had been inflicted at all. They were supposed to be different, things were supposed to be better after Megatron's demise. It wasn't. Not yet at least. But Optimus was trying to do better, they all were trying to be the change they wanted to see, but cases like Vortex slipped through the cracks.

Finally Sunstreaker picked out a silly action movie and attached the data chip to the screen, hoping it would hold the Decepticon's attention for a while at least. Plonking down on the opposite end of the couch as the movie started, Sunstreaker brushed against a grey pede, drawing a hiss from himself at the small contact.

Vortex's bare face turned to the Autobot, his thin, scarred lips tipped down in confusion. "What?" he tried to hiss back, but his tone was filled with static.

The frontliner frowned, servo gently reaching out to touch the copter's upper arm, dismay flickering through the golden mech. "You're freezing."

Shifting uncomfortably, Vortex tried to pull away from the pleasure singing through his sensor net at the gentleness of the contact. It was embarrassing to fight to not press into that soft touch; he had been far too long alone.

"I'm fine." Vortex managed to wheeze, trying to sound angry and not so pathetic.

Sunstreaker frowned, looking concerned, optics dimmed. "If you're extremities are this cold, your core will be too." The Autobot shifted. "You need to warm up."

Vortex glanced away, trying to curl harder into the far corner of the couch, trying to get away from the glorious warmth from the Autobot. "I'm fine." He grunted.

Studying the 'Con a moment longer, Sunstreaker sighed. "Stubborn glitch."

Pulling his servo away, Sunstreaker scowled as he watched the movie, firmly ignoring the other as the opening credits began.

Vortex watched the Autobot from the corner of his optic, before he curled into himself a little tighter, frame shuddering as it tried to warm itself, but still having a hard time in retaining heat after his time with Cliffjumper.

Sunstreaker also watched the Decepticon from the corner of his optic, and he could see how he shuddered and curled into his ball, trying to warm himself. Sunstreaker sighed again, biting his lower lip in frustration. "Vortex." The Autobot nearly snapped, fighting down his annoyance. "Would you just let me help? You're too cold for your systems to tolerate."

Vortex refused to look at Sunstreaker, face still unhidden with his visor gone and battle mask long destroyed. "What do you want to do?" he asked quietly.

Sunstreaker huffed. "Come here." The Autobot said softly.

The former interrogator hesitated briefly, before shrugging and shifted to sit closer to the Autobot. Frame ready to bolt should anything he didn't want, happen.

Pulling a thick blanket from subspace, Sunstreaker stretched his legs out behind Vortex, tossing the blanket over his strong lower frame. "Lay down." The Autobot gently ordered, tenting the blanket so the copter could slip his legs under it.

Fear bolted through the Decepticon at the prospect at putting his back to the Autobot. He would be vulnerable and open.

Sunstreaker sat patiently, waiting for Vortex to do what he had asked; the 'Con trying to decide if he was safe or not. But if Sunstreaker was going to hurt him, he would have done it by now, Vortex argued with himself.

Releasing the air he held, stiff legs slipped under the blanket as he shimmied to lie down. Powerful golden legs slotted against his bent ones, the warmth from the gold plates helping him relax against the powerful frame behind him.

Sunstreaker was stiff for a moment before he relaxed, his helm propped up in his servo, his other arm slowly circling around Vortex's chest, drawing the blanket tighter around them as he held the Decepticon to his frame. Tight enough to provide comfort and warmth, but loose enough to let Vortex know he could leave if he choose to.

"This okay?" Sunstreaker asked softly from above, tone hesitant as he worried that he was hurting the other.

The rumbling engine against his back, heavy and powerful was so different from Cliffjumper's, Sunstreaker's frame firm and warm, cocooning his own. "It's fine." He rasped.

Sunstreaker nodded, turning his attention back to the movie which played, Vortex curled against his frame.

Dull pink optics slipped off line and Vortex was finally able to recharge, content in the Autobot's arms.

Sideswipe followed Onslaught up the stairs to their apartment, the frontliner trying desperately to pay attention to what the Decepticon was ranting about.

Finally the crimson Autobot sighed, blue optics rolling. "Ons!" he nearly snapped "I know you're worried about Tex. But you need to calm down, we've only been gone for a few orns, I'm sure Sunny and Vortex have managed to _not_ kill each other."

Onslaught grumbled, helm tipping away, energon refill tank tucked under one arm, a stack of reading data pads in the other. "Leaving them home alone was a bad idea, one of us should have stayed with them."

Sideswipe sighed again. "'Slaught, they live together. They need some time to get to know one another."

Onslaught snorted as he entered the apartment, dropping the tank off in the kitchen, and ignoring the smirking Autobot, Onslaught stormed from the kitchen area, insisting on seeing his subordinate. Sideswipe watched him, helm shaking in quiet amusement, a frown tugging on his lips when the Decepticon suddenly stopped dead.

Confused, Sideswipe crossed to stand beside the commander, a massive smile spreading across his mouth at the sight.

The image on the TV was a picture of black and white static as the data chip had completed its movie. On the couch, Sunstreaker was curled around Vortex, arms circling around his thick chest. The copter's clawed servo clung to Sunstreaker's, digits interlacing with the Autobot's jet black. The grey Decepticon's mouth hung partially opened while he pressed into Sunstreaker's frame, both laying deep in recharge.

Sideswipe's smile became a smirk, and lightly punching Onslaught's arm, his voice was low so as to not wake the recharging mechs. "And you were worried about them."

Onslaught sighed, glowering at the smirking Autobot. "I hope this doesn't go awry."

The crimson Autobot curled his arm around Onslaught's, tugging the commander slightly closer. "Come on Ons. Let them have a good recharge."

Optics rolling, Onslaught shot a weak glare at the crimson twin. "Sunstreaker is drooling on Vortex's helm."

"And Tex is drooling on Sunny's arm. It's okay." Sideswipe said cheerfully.

Onslaught sighed again, letting the older of the twins lead him back to his room, relief and amusement warring in his spark.


End file.
